


boy, i adore you.

by adamantwrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Actor AU, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Bisexual Shiro (Voltron), Flower Crowns, M/M, Shance Flower Exchange 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 04:22:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18843553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantwrites/pseuds/adamantwrites
Summary: “Tell me something...” Lance murmured, his fingers working deftly with the green stems scattered in his lap. He’d woven the longer stems together, mindlessly shaping a ringlet as he and Shiro talked the hours away. “...If I asked, would you marry me?”





	boy, i adore you.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notbrianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notbrianna/gifts).



> Hi Bri! It was so much fun writing this for you!! I took your requests for sunflowers and wildflowers, coupled with flower crowns and an Actor AU, and turned it into quite a bit of soft fluff for you. I hope you enjoy!

“Tell me something,” Lance murmured, his fingers working deftly with the green stems scattered in his lap. He’d woven the longer stems together, mindlessly shaping a ringlet as he and Shiro talked the hours away.

It was near impossible to find moments like this, to sneak off the set and escape its endless demands, to lie in the sunshine as if nothing were tugging at them. 

A break for the morning allowed the chance, and he’d taken it upon himself to smuggle Shiro out the back, down a trodden path to a rare field scattered with grass and wildflowers. The green blades danced in the wind, speckled with pinks and purples, yellow and orange bursting to life around them. They were beautiful, but not so much as the man to his left, a smile in his eyes, bangs tousled by the breeze.

Shiro met his inquiry with a hum, pressing his lips to the glistening brown of Lance’s hair. “What is it?”

“If I asked, would you marry me?”  

“Marry you?”

There was a pause, the air thick with it. Lance nearly wavered beneath the weight, blushing at the shy curiosity in Shiro’s gaze.

“Are you asking me?”

How bashful. How _adorable._ A smile blossomed on Shiro’s face, spreading like the color on his cheeks.

In the stories he told for the cameras, the astronaut he played in The Garrison— Shiro came across as daring, impulsive, and confident.

He was all of those things, when the time called for it. His hands wandered between cuts on darker sets, burning Lance’s skin. He captured their first kiss, the _real_ one, after a long day of filming and an evening spent in a pub, both warm and full of too much drink. If he let his thoughts go long enough, Lance remembered the brick wall pressed against his back, Shiro’s mouth hot and eager against his.

But, there were a thousand _more_ facets to his character: secret laughs and dorky comments only Lance picked up on; quiet moments of consideration and solemn thought. Like this one.

It made him nervous, but Lance occupied his jitters with the crown of flowers his fingers created, filling in the empty places with snapdragons.

“I might be,” he answered, swallowing his stomach as best he could. His work paused, and he looked up at Shiro. “We’ve been on set together for five months now. I know that’s not a lot of time, but I can’t imagine leaving without knowing you’re mine.”

“Marriage is quite a commitment, and you’re young, Lance. You’re only twenty-one. Your career’s taking off.”

“If you’re trying to deter me, you’ll have to come up with something better than that.”

Shiro chuckled, a delicate sound bubbling in his throat, so breathtaking Lance wished he could capture it. “I want to be sure you’re okay being tied down to someone.”

He wasn’t saying no; Lance recognized that. He shrugged, tucking another stem into the braid.

“You’re hardly someone.”

“Well, you do make an excellent point.”

A two-time Academy-award winner and up for a third at the Oscars that evening, Takashi Shirogane was _the_ someone. Yet, so humble and sweet, how could Lance not want him? It annoyed him to death, in the best of ways.

Rolling his eyes, Lance threw what was left of the flowers and grass in his lap at Shiro’s face, showering him with green and pink.

“Don’t get cocky now, unless you’d like me to rescind my offer,” he teased, squealing when Shiro lurched towards him suddenly. _“Takashi!”_

The breath was forced from his lungs when he hit the ground, pinned by the impressive weight on top of him. He pushed back, a hand braced on Shiro’s chest, the other curling in the hair that tickled his face.  And, just as quickly, his breath was given back, a soft kiss providing it.

“Takashi,” Lance said more softly, syllables muffled by lips and tongue and gasps. He smiled, as much as he could with Shiro savoring the shape of his mouth, lashes fluttering to steal a glance at the man he loved so much.

Some might argue that five months was too little. He was being stupid, rushing into things with the first man he really loved because of infatuation and lust. He certainly didn’t feel that, and the way Shiro cupped his chin, brushed his fingers up his jaw, threaded them with his, said Shiro was on the same page as him.

So, Lance tried again when the kiss broke, lost in those bright, grey eyes.

“Marry me, Takashi. You’d make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

He expected another kiss, another laugh. The small nod stole his heart right from his chest. Shiro smiled, bumping their noses together.

“Alright. When?”

* * *

Parting with Lance was difficult, but Shiro managed. His dress shoes clicked up the sidewalk to the apartment being rented throughout filming, and inside, he found Allura waiting for him rather impatiently.

“You were out awhile,” she announced, peeking over the back of the couch.

Grass stains dyed the knees of his slacks green, and his sweater had bits of petals stuck to it. Shiro offered no explanation. He brushed his chest off, brushed _her_ off simultaneously. The kitchen was far more appealing.

“Am I not allowed out?”

Allura met him with perturbed glare. “Not if you’re barely back in time for the stylist and hairdresser.”

“Well, I’m back.” He laughed at the grumble she let free, carefully plucking the crown woven for him from his head.

Purple Larkspur and Queen Anne’s Lace wound around one another, carefully worked by Lance’s delicate fingers, pops of orange-pink brought in by snapdragons. The meaning wasn’t lost on him, even if Lance hadn’t intended it. Spirit and freedom, both embodied by the flowers and his fiancé. A small smile tugged at his mouth as he laid the crown on the kitchen counter.

“Lance asked me to marry him.”

That had Allura’s attention, though she remained silent. He felt her burning blue stare on the side of his face, so intent he thought she might be trying to read his mind.

He filled in the blanks for her, taking away any pressure to sprout superpowers.

“Today. Just a half hour ago, actually. Flat out: _will you marry me?_ ”

“You’ve only been seeing him—”

“—five months, I know.”

The floors beneath her creaked, warning him to her approach, then a hand landed on the center of his back, careful and soothing.

“Are you sure? So quick?”

“I won’t be around forever.” He said it harshly, gritting his teeth as he glared at the bracelet around his wrist, but his illness was harsh. Cruel. Manipulative. One doctor’s visit and a handful of tests later, he was cheated out of an extended future and everything but fleeting happiness. Until Lance.

“He knows?” she asked softly.

Shiro nodded. “As soon as he said he loved me, I just- I blurted it out. I fully expected him to leave the same way Adam did, but Lance didn’t even blink. He’s the first person outside of you and Keith that I’ve told. He’s the first one who hasn’t acted like my life is supposed to end, like I’m supposed to spend everyday fighting it. It’s like… I feel like I can breathe around him.”

Allura inhaled deeply, a contemplative sound.

“I can ask him to sign a prenup if you’re—”

“No,” she stated, cutting him off quickly. “No, absolutely not. I know him. I trust him; and you, Takashi."

Moving her hand from his back, Allura lay it over his, a steady warmth as opposed to the cool countertop beneath his palms. She smiled at him, and Shiro returned it, recognizing her concern for what it was: years of friendship and love. She always had an eye out for him. He appreciated it now, especially when she simply accepted this.

“Tell me what you’re planning, then,” she prompted, squeezing his hand. “I know you’ll want to do it as soon as possible - it may be fun to surprise him.”

“With a ring?”

“With anything… flowers, a ring, a wedding.”

“Can you pull it all together by tonight?” he asked quietly, daring to smile at the idea.

Allura beamed at him. “I am nothing if not magic, Takashi.”

* * *

His hands trembled, his voice shook as he took questions from reporters. He’d practiced for this, a thousand times over with Coran, but nothing could’ve prepared him for the nervous energy that was flashing lights and screaming fans and A-listers at every turn.

He’d proposed to one of them.

_Proposed!_

And, Shiro said yes.

Undoubtedly the deer-in-headlights of the night, Lance pressed on through the first round of interviews, promoting his upcoming film with Shiro; promoting Shiro, in general. Perhaps he lingered too long on the latter, perhaps he made their secret romance obvious with the way he smiled, but how was he supposed to help it? Between every stop, with every breath, he was scanning the faces around him, awaiting the arrival of his boyfriend turned fiancé, soon-to-be-husband.

Lance jumped when a hand touched his waist.

“Breathe, Sharpshooter,” came the brush of Shiro’s mouth by his ear.

Subtle and secretive, he kept the moment casual enough so no one stood the wiser, like he were simply guiding Lance along, close enough to be heard over the clamour and chaos. Still, with their relationship on the cusp of being revealed, Lance relaxed.

“I’m sorry. I know.”

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn't have asked. I- it was—” Hardly the time or place for it, for his insecurities to suddenly catch up and boil over, right into Shiro’s waiting arms. Lance turned around, facing him head on, hands shoved in his pockets. “It was kind of silly, wasn’t it? I mean, you were right. I was moving fast.”

Shiro titled his head. “Are you regretting it?”  

“N-no…?”

He wasn’t. Not at all.

But Lance couldn’t find his voice with Shiro looking so flawless, a clean-cut picture of soft masculinity and excellent taste. A pale pink suit hugged every muscle perfectly, fit to his broad shoulders and tapered in at his waist. The choice in color didn’t surprise him, neither did the soft-white pocket square with dark pink polka-dots on it.

All of that was fantastic, but nothing held a flame to the crown of flowers on Shiro’s head; white, blue, and sunset pink complementing his suit beautifully.

His mouth fell open, a spectacle on the red carpet. “You look—”

“—like a fairy? Thanks. I was aiming for that.”

Lance laughed, his apprehension leaving him fully. He’d get through his night, he knew that now. Shiro had a way of making everything turn out bright.

“You look really nice. You didn’t have wear it.”

“I wanted to.” 

With a soft smile, Shiro ushered him on to the next spot. The reporters snapped a few photos of them together, happy for the chance to have the co-stars side by side. Shiro was pulled into a conversation for awhile, leaving Lance to introduce himself to a few of the actors passing by, coveting Shiro’s time.

A harmless, fleeting feeling, quickly assuaged by Shiro taking his arm minutes later and tugging him towards the awards hall.

“You look great in teal, by the way. Definitely your color.”

“Yeah?” Lance smiled.

Enough space lingered between them, enough to make them seem friendly, and that was all. He liked the privacy they’ve had so far, but he longed to pull Shiro close.

Before he had the chance to so much as brush Shiro’s hand, indicating the display he wanted, they were stopped again, this time by Allura and Coran. She passed something off to Shiro. Lance didn’t catch it. He was drawn into a debate about the merits of lobster versus steak, and left confused when Coran announced neither were on the evening’s menu, anyway.

Allura pulled away from them at the same time Shiro grabbed Lance’s wrist, tugging the latter around and smiling at him. It was a shock; the sudden and abrupt move.

“I got you something to go with it.”

“With what?” Lance retracted his hand, nervous all over again.

“Your suit.”

Shiro’s smile was stunning; his proximity was heaven. They weren’t in front of any reporters, not directly, but Lance imagined everyone staring right at them. He _felt_ everyone staring at them, and somehow, he was hardly aware of anything but the heat creeping up his neck and Shiro attaching a small corsage to his suit jacket.

The flowers matched the crown-- pink, white, and blue, with a burst of yellow from a miniature sunflower.

“My favorite,” Lance plucked at it, struggling to pull his eyes up to the man in front of him. “Thank you.”  

“You’re welcome.”

Shiro brushed Lance’s elbow, a small, affectionate gesture that would've gone unnoticed if Shiro let go. He didn’t. In fact, he stepped closer, both hands on Lance now, the one dropping to his waist; the other warm and gentle on his neck. Seconds from asking what Shiro intended, a kiss stole every word from him, every thought. His mind, his breath, his heart— they were all lost, gone as he stiffened, then softened, melted into Shiro’s chest. 

Too soon, he pulled away, and Lance blinked, completely stunned.

“What are you doing?” he asked, secretive despite there being little need for it. The world saw them; for once, _silent._  

Shiro held him close, and for that, Lance was thankful.

“If we’re getting married, we might as well go public.”

* * *

Call him crazy, but he was doing this.

The awards ceremony couldn’t fly by quickly enough. The few seats between him and Lance couldn’t be removed soon enough. Shiro missed him. A handle of hours, and he missed him: the brush of his fingers, the bump of their hips, their calm and quiet. He hardly focused through the speeches, the announcements, went dazedly to the stage for his own moment.

The audience applauded, but Shiro focused only on Lance.

Call him crazy, crazy in love.

Finally, the procession was over. The stars and esteemed guests stood and scattered, gathering in groups around the room before cars came to whisk them off to after parties. Shiro didn’t allow anyone the opportunity to steal Lance.

God. He _was_ crazy — kissing Lance on the red carpet, sending the media into a storm, planning an entire wedding as a surprise at his own after party — everyone wanted to talk to them, but he wasn’t losing this chance. They could wait; they could all damn well wait an eternity. Shiro didn’t have that luxury. It warranted him a bit of brusk selfishness.

“What’s going on?” Lance asked, slightly alarmed by the rush to their car. 

Coran was there, along with Allura, both wearing mischievous smiles that made Lance falter as he climbed into the SUV’s expansive backseat. Champagne awaited them, which Allura passed along once both were seated, looking at Shiro for longer than Lance thought normal.

“Seriously, what’s happening? What are you two doing with me?”

Allura smirked at him. “We can’t have a few secrets that don’t include you?”

“Not when we’re getting married,” Lance retorted, almost possessively.

Liking the display, Shiro draped an arm around his shoulders, a tap of his fingers tucking Lance against his ribs.

“I told you he’d catch on,” he said to Allura. “We should tell him.”

“We should wait.”

“You should get out,” Coran interrupted, jabbing a thumb at the door.

The windows were so tinted, Lance could hardly see what lay beyond them, but a guess said there were no reporters, no lights, no reason to put a smile on. But, he did; it appeared all on its own, actually, the second he followed Shiro onto the sidewalk where a cozy chapel awaited them.

It glowed from within, the double doors propped open, wooden pews and stones floors flickering in the light from the lanterns. Lance caught movement and life as they approached.

“Mama?”

“My boy.”

She stepped into the aisle and wrapped him in a hug, effectively stealing Lance from Shiro. Then, his entire family filed from their seats, crowding around mother and son, suffocating them both. Over their bobbing heads and tall shoulders, through the tears in his eyes, Lance watched Shiro embrace his own family, his father and mother affectionately cupping his face. Keith stood just to the left of them, a smile on his lips.  

“This is a wedding, isn’t it?”

Mama beamed. “ _Your_ wedding. Allura flew us all in.”

“You can say no,” he heard from behind. Allura waited patiently while Lance extracted himself from his family, a bouquet of sunflowers in her hand. She extended it towards him. “But, if you say yes…”

“Shiro did this?”

“It was his idea. I took a mix of him and you and turned it into this. Something warm, intimate, and colorful. I took care of the legal stuff, and Coran got ordained.”

“He did? That’s perfect,” he said. “That’s so like him. God. I love it, Allura.”

There was no other way he’d have it. Just his family and Shiro’s, Keith in the pews; Coran at the altar. Flowers decorated every place imaginable, their petals scattered on the floor of the aisle, vases at the start of every row, on the steps up to Shiro. A stained glass window framed him, bold and beautiful in the warm light of the chapel’s interior. 

Smiling, Lance took the bouquet, but not before giving Allura a tight squeeze. “Thank you. So much.”

“That’s a yes, then?”

“How could I say no?” he laughed. “I surprise him with a proposal, he surprises me with a wedding. We’re made for each other. It’s… like he keeps my heart beating.”

“Funny. He said something similar to me.”

She explained no further. Rather, she stepped back, joining Shiro and Coran. Rings were passed from her to him, and Lance shook his head at every single detail being planned. As if on cue, Mama took his hand, music started playing from somewhere above him, and the procession towards the altar began. Saying he wasn’t nervous would be a lie, but… he was also confident. Lance was sure of this, sure of his life with Shiro, however long they had.

His smile reflected as much when Mama gave him to Shiro, who took his hands in his own.

“Hi,” he murmured shyly.

Lance laughed. “Hi. You thought of all this?”

“It was Allura really.”

“I love it.”

“I love _you,”_ Shiro insisted, blushing slightly before he looked down at his feet. His jaw worked as he gathered his thoughts, voice broke when he spoke next. “You’re my chance at a full life, Lance, however much of that I get. You’re it.”

He thought he’d be able to fight them, but his eyes blurred, cheeks burning. “You’re my happiness and confidence and everything good about me.” Lance swallowed a lump in his throat, looking up to the ceiling as tears fell. “A week in, and I knew you were it for me.”

“God, Lance. How? How is it me?”

“How could it not be?”

Their eyes met, lingering. Lance swore he’d turn into a sobbing puddle if someone didn’t do something. Thank _god_ Allura nudged Coran, and Coran gestured for Shiro to take the rings from his pocket, two gorgeous silver bands. Starting off with an introduction to the vows, Lance and Shiro exchanged the words when prompted, sharing smiles and giddy laughs between the phrases.

None of it felt real. And, somehow, it felt impossible solid, the ring heavy and warm when Shiro slid it onto Lance’s fingers “...I will honor you, I will respect you…”

“...I will love you,” Lance said, repeating the same motion. The silver was beautiful with Shiro’s skin tone. “I will listen to you… in sickness and in health...”

“...for richer or for poorer.” Taking both of his hands again, Shiro brushed his thumbs across Lance’s knuckles, rocking back and forth on his feet. “I, Takashi Shirogane—”

“—I, Lance Mcclain, take you as my partner, my husband, my lover, and my friend.”

Tears slid down Shiro’s cheeks.

“I take you as my one, my only, my forever.”

“Congratulations,” Coran said, a hand on each man’s shoulder, barely enough to restrain them. “You may kiss your new husband.”

* * *

With Shiro curled around him, Lance had never felt so content. 

He was warm. He had a steady, relentless heartbeat against his back. His legs tangled with those of the man behind him. And more than contentment, he felt happiness.

So much so, it seemed his soul had left his body, had drifted up to hover near the ceiling in the moonlit bedroom, a smile on his ghostly lips for the large form tucked beneath white sheets, tangled up with a dark, lanky shape. So much so, his soul drifted further, miles off.

Lance hummed quietly when he found himself in the field of flowers once again, laughing as Shiro dusted grass from his hair, grinning into a delicate kiss when they decided on forever.

Laying a hand over his mouth, he fought the tears that came with the rush of their wedding. The sunflowers. The vows. The tender love and meticulous thought Shiro had put into every detail. His face still hurt from smiling, but his heart was full with all the smiles from his family, that of blood and now, by marriage.

How Allura managed to gather everyone in Los Angeles so quickly was a mystery. Lance couldn’t help a little gasp of gratitude and wonder over it.

“You okay?” Shiro grunted, then lifted his head to peer over Lance, kissing the side of his face.

Lance pushed his hips back, enjoying the surprised sound his husband — _his husband_ — made. “Lance McClain-Shirogane? Or do you like Lance Shirogane better?”

“Whatever you like best, my love. I’ll take Shirogane-McClain if you prefer it.”

 _“Hm_ , so many options available to me...”

He turned around in Shiro’s arms, daring to hitch a leg up over his hip despite it being 3 AM.

He felt Shiro’s smile on his lips, the scrape of facial hair harsh on his skin as a kiss built between them, deepended. Not that he’d complain; not that he’d ever complain again when he had this man at his side. He cupped Shiro’s jaw, slid his fingers back into the velvet buzzcut around the sides and back of his head. Finally, he stopped with Shiro’s bangs twisted between them, forcing his chin up so Lance could nuzzle down his neck.

“I’ll have to think on this for a bit, I’m afraid.”

His mouth made it to Shiro’s collarbone, where Lance nipped playfully. A laugh greeted him, then Shiro rolled onto his back, pulling Lance with him.

“Take all the time you need.” His hands settled on Lance’s hips. “I’m sure I’ll think of something to keep myself busy.”

 


End file.
